Be Kind to Yourself When You’ve Given Everything You Have

There is a particular kind of disappointment that comes from not getting a job you really wanted. Not because you didn't prepare, didn't care or didn't give it everything you had, but because you did. You gave it everything, and sometimes, you still don't get it.

I've been thinking about this a lot recently. I've spent months applying for roles, tailoring CVs, writing applications, researching organisations, preparing for interviews and trying to present the very best version of myself to potential employers. When you want something badly enough, rejection starts to feel like something much bigger than a simple "you weren't successful on this occasion". It starts to feel personal. You begin questioning whether you're good enough, whether your experience is enough, whether your qualifications matter and whether you're actually the person you thought you were.

I have to admit, I haven't been particularly kind to myself through this process.

The version of me recruiters see

Something I've found particularly difficult is knowing that the person recruiters are meeting right now isn't necessarily the person I know myself to be.

They're meeting someone who has been searching for work for months. Someone who has faced rejection, disappointment and uncertainty. Someone who is tired, frustrated and desperately wants an opportunity to prove themselves. Someone whose confidence has taken a hit after repeatedly being told, in one way or another, that they aren't quite what an organisation is looking for.

That inevitably affects you. It affects how confidently you talk about yourself, how you describe your achievements and how you walk into an interview. It is incredibly difficult to sell yourself when you're struggling to believe in yourself.

And I think that's one of the things I've found hardest to accept. Recruiters are making decisions based on the version of me they meet during a relatively short recruitment process, but that version of me is not necessarily the version that exists when I'm thriving.

The person I know myself to be is still there. She's just tired.

Sometimes you just need someone to take a chance

I don't think I need another qualification to prove that I'm capable. I don't think I need to demonstrate that I can work hard or that I'm willing to learn. I've spent years building my experience, completed an undergraduate degree, completed a Master's degree, worked in HR and consultancy, dealt with real people and real workplace problems, and spent years developing professionally.

But at some point, you need someone to look at all of that and think, I think she could do this. Let's give her the opportunity.

I don't expect an employer to take a chance blindly. Recruitment exists for a reason, and employers need to make the right decisions for their organisations. But sometimes a CV and an interview can only tell you so much. There are qualities that don't necessarily come across on paper: how someone approaches problems, how they work with people, how quickly they learn, how much they care about what they do and what they can become when given the opportunity to grow.

I want someone to give me that opportunity. Not because I expect something to be handed to me, but because I want the chance to actually demonstrate what I can do.

There is a point where there is nothing more you can do

Perhaps the hardest lesson I've had to learn during this job search is that there is a point where you've genuinely done everything you can.

You've submitted the application. You've tailored the CV. You've prepared for the interview. You've researched the organisation. You've answered every question as well as you could. You've followed up. You've done everything that was within your control.

And then you have to let go.

You can't work harder after that. You can't rewrite the interview. You can't change what another candidate brought to the table. You can't force someone to choose you. You can't control whether there was an internal candidate, whether priorities changed, whether someone had slightly more relevant experience or whether another person simply happened to be the better fit on the day.

Doing everything right doesn't guarantee the outcome you want.

That is a horrible thing to accept when you're someone who is used to working hard for what you achieve. You start to believe that if you just try harder, prepare better or improve yourself a little more, eventually the result will change.

But sometimes there genuinely isn't anything more you could have done.

And that doesn't make the rejection your fault.

I've had to recognise what this has done to me

My mental health has suffered during this process. I've found myself questioning my abilities and my value in a way that I don't think I would have expected before starting this search.

I've been disappointed in myself for not being further ahead. I've felt frustrated when applications haven't worked out, upset when interviews haven't led anywhere and exhausted by having to repeatedly put myself back together and start again.

I've also felt guilty for struggling with it.

But why?

This is difficult. Of course it is.

Spending months putting yourself forward for opportunities and repeatedly being told no is going to affect your confidence. Being rejected doesn't make you weak, and struggling with rejection doesn't mean you're not resilient. Sometimes resilience isn't feeling positive all the time. Sometimes it's simply getting up the next morning and trying again when you're already exhausted.

I think I've been expecting myself to handle this perfectly, while forgetting that I'm a person going through something genuinely difficult.

Maybe being kind to yourself means accepting that this hurts

I'm trying to change the way I talk to myself.

Instead of asking myself why I haven't got a job yet, I'm trying to remember everything I've achieved while navigating this process. Instead of interpreting rejection as evidence that I'm not good enough, I'm trying to remember that a recruitment decision is a decision about a particular role, at a particular organisation, at a particular point in time. It isn't a definitive assessment of my worth or potential.

I am not my rejection emails. I'm not the number of applications I've submitted, the interviews I've had or the roles I haven't secured.

And neither is anyone else.

There are so many people currently experiencing the same thing. People who are qualified, experienced, capable and hardworking, but who are struggling to get through a recruitment process that can sometimes feel completely disconnected from their actual ability.

We need to be kinder to ourselves while we're going through it.

Not in the sense of pretending everything is wonderful or convincing ourselves that rejection doesn't hurt. Sometimes it does hurt. Sometimes you need to admit that you're disappointed. Sometimes you need to have a bad day.

Being kind to yourself can simply mean recognising that you're doing the best you can with something that is incredibly difficult.

I'm still here

I don't know when the right opportunity will come along.

Maybe it will be the next one. Maybe it won't.

I don't know which employer will eventually take that chance on me and give me the opportunity to demonstrate what I can do. What I do know is that I have done everything within my control to get myself to this point.

And for now, perhaps that needs to be enough.

I don't want to meet the next recruiter as the exhausted, defeated version of myself who thinks she has something left to prove. I want to find my way back to the person I know I am: someone who is capable, curious, hardworking, passionate about HR and excited about what she can contribute.

The job search may have shaken my confidence, but it hasn't changed who I am.

So, while I'm still waiting for someone to take that chance, I'm going to try to take a chance on myself again.

And perhaps most importantly, I'm going to try to be a little kinder to her.